


Pulling Shards

by HeavierThanHeaven



Category: Dean Ambrose - Fandom, Roman Reigns - Fandom, Seth Rollins - Fandom, WWE, ambreigns - Fandom, wrestling - Fandom
Genre: BoyxBoy, Fanfiction, Love, M/M, colby lopez - Freeform, jon moxley - Freeform, jonathangood, leati anoai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-05-18 10:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5925349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavierThanHeaven/pseuds/HeavierThanHeaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>------------<br/>"Fuck. Fuck, I'm sorry." I managed to decipher from Dean's broken voice, "I was clean for so fucking long I swear." I pulled him closer to me and held him tighter.</p>
<p>"You don't have to apologise, Dean." <br/>-----------</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unfamiliar Faces

Roman's P.O.V

~~~

I pulled my grey jacket closer to my body as the brisk autumn air forced it's way through open window. The lecture hall was slowly filling up with beyond exhausted students who chatted to create a choir of grumbling and complaining about the upcoming year. 

"One year to go." My close friend, Seth Rollins, spoke from the seat beside me. I nodded in acknowledgement and leaned back in my chair. My eyes scanned the clearly separated cliches and groups in the room.

The noise grounded to a halt when several books were dropped onto the desk at the front of the class. Everyone found their seats as the teacher rifled through stacks of paper.  
"Welcome back, everyone. I trust you all had a fun summer." A middle-aged woman in white blouse and pencil skirt smiled out. A few mumbled in reply. "I hope you all had a chance to relax, because from here till the end of the year, it's gonna be nothing but hard work!" She spoke with a fake enthusiasm.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the door open. A figure slipped in, unnoticed by the teacher and the majority of everybody else. I didn't recognise him. It's a strange time of the year to transfer, I thought to myself.

The droning of the teacher merged into background noise as I watched the boy scan the class for an empty seat. He found one a row in front of me and several seats across.

He wore an unreadable expression and a leather jacket which looked at least three generations old. A plain black tee was stretched over his broad chest and he had dark jeans to match. He dropped a backpack under the desk, slumping into his chair.

"Who's the new kid?" Seth leaned forwards and whispered across to me. I shrugged my shoulders.

"Transfer, I guess. Weird timing though, right? Last year, and all." I furrowed my eyebrows, not averting my gaze from the boy. His eyes looked heavy and were underlined by dark circles.

Seth hummed in agreement and pushed his hair back over his shoulder,  
"Looks like the kinda guy who got kicked out for beating up a teacher, if you ask me."

I laughed lowly. Seth was probably right, he must've done something pretty bad to have gotten kicked out a year before finals. 

The lesson droned on uneventfully. The teacher briefed us on rules and regulations like they do every year, and blagged on about the importance of our exams. The new kid didn't seem to take any notice, as he sat with his phone positioned under the desk. 

When the bell rang, he jumped slightly. I chuckled at his reaction and swung my bag over my shoulder. Slowly, everyone got to their feet.

"Since it's the first day back, I will  
not be setting homework, but don't think you'll be getting off so lightly every other lesson!" Miss Younger, or so her name-tag read, shouted over the voices of the students.

I stood on my toes to watch a preppy looking jock stumble over to the new boy. I recalled him to be a popular member of the football team. He hopped over a desk and looked down at the boy who was still sat in his chair.

"Hey, kid. You're new here right? You like football?" The jock sized him up with his eyes, clearly taking his muscles into account as an asset to the team. I snarled, he'd done the exact same thing to me two years ago when I started working out. The boy simply stared back up at him, his expressionless face never faltering.

The jock cleared his throat and looked up awkwardly at his friends.  
"Well, lemme give you some tips on who to hang out with and who to avoid-"

The new kid slowly got to his feet. He stood half a head taller than the other boy and looked down his nose at him.  
"I think I can tell who to avoid for myself. Thanks." He spoke for the first time. His hands balled into fists, signal enough for the jock and his friends to back up a couple of steps. Seth and I choked back a laugh.

The small group soon scattered, leaving Seth and I alone with the newbie. He glanced over from across the room. His eyes flickered up and down, taking us both in before smirking slightly. I raised an eyebrow and he huffed through his nose before turning on his heels and packing towards the door.

"I'm Roman." The words slipped from my lips before I realised I'd spoken. The boy skidded to a halt and glanced over his shoulder without meeting my eyes. His tongue darted between his teeth.

"Dean." He chimed, shoving the door open with his shoulder and stepping through and letting it slam shut behind him.

~~~


	2. Pull Down Your Sleeves

Roman's P.O.V

~~~

After the extremely brief encounter with Dean, I couldn't get him off my mind. There was something about him. He was unreadable. Everyone else at this school was so predictable and stereotypical. But not him.

He was in the majority of my classes and tended to sit closer to the back of the room. His outfits rarely varied from tight jeans and plain shirts, with a leather jacket thrown across his wide shoulders.

Seth and I often saw him wandering aimlessly around the school, more often than not, alone. Seth had suggested numerous times to approach the boy but I warned against it. He had a certain unpredictability about him and I wasn't willing to test that.

~

The bell rang for lunch and I slipped out from my desk and made my way to the dinner hall. I paused at my locker to drop off a couple of books.

"What's up with that Ambrose kid?" A voice spoke from behind my locker door. I peeked around it to see a couple of the school's football players leaning against the wall. Was 'Ambrose' Dean's surname?

"I don't know, it's creeping me out. The way he broods around, I feel like he's gonna pull a knife on me or something." Yeah, they were definitely talking about Dean. The boys laughed among themselves.

"Reckon he got in a fight the other day, he took off his jacket and he had bruises all over his arms." One of the jocks' words caught my attention. I closed my locker and glanced over at the huddle.

"What you staring at Reigns? Keep walking." One spat as they all turned to glare at me. I raised an eyebrow.

"What's your problem?" I surprised myself by speaking, but managed to back up my words by folding my arms and taking a step forward. They shot each other confused glances before Finn, the leader of the team, approached me.

"You're my problem, faggot. Now turn around and go cry to your two-toned bitch of a friend." Finn tilted his head and stared at me with cold eyes. I narrowed my eyes at the homophobic slur and turned to walk away.

Surprisingly enough, Finn and I used to be pretty close. He changed his attitude when he joined the football team. Even more so when I gained about 50 pounds and started working out, only to deny his offer to join the team. Ever since, he seemed somewhat mad.

I shook it off as I entered the dinner hall. The smell of undercooked meat and stale vegetables filled my nose. I grimaced and looked for a patch of blonde hair in the crowd. 

When I spotted him, I made my way over, only to slow down when I got near enough to see who he was sitting with. The figure's dirty blonde hair hung low over his face as he sat hunched over a crushed energy drink can.

I warily slid into the seat beside Seth.  
"Hey, Ro." He chimed, throwing a soft punch at my bare arm. I huffed before glancing sideways at Dean who focused on his balled fist. Seth cleared his throat, gaining his attention,

"This is Dean. I was just talking to him about 'To Kill A Mocking Bird', y'know the story we're studying in Literature?" 

I clenched my teeth and let my eyes scan to the side to observe Dean. He sighed and leaned back slightly. I shot him an apologetic look before turning back to Seth.

"Seth, I don't think Dean really cares about the book we're looking at in Lit." I spoke softly. Seth's smile fell and he looked down at his hands. 

"Oh. Sorry, Dean." Seth mumbled. A small laugh escaped Dean's lips and the noise startled me.  
"Don't worry 'bout it."

I smiled over at him. My gaze dropped to his arms which were partially covered by his leather sleeves. The outlines of several dark patches were visible. He caught me looking and tugged at his coat to cover them. He then stuck his bottom jaw out slightly before getting to his feet.

His empty can landed squarely in a bin by the door.  
"See you round." Dean spoke nonchalantly, taking a few wide strides away from the table. When he was out of view, I hit Seth's arm.

"Hey, ouch!" He whined, rubbing his bicep over dramatically.

"Why did you talk to him?" I ignored his injury and whispered to him. He simply shrugged his shoulders and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"He was sat alone. Last time I approached a guy who looked as lonely as he did, I made a friend for life." He smirked sideways at me. I let out a short laugh and leaned on my elbows.

"Yeah, that's true. He seems like an interesting guy, like he's been through a lot." I observed. Seth hummed in agreement, engulfed in his phone. I sighed and glanced around the busy cafeteria. 

I didn't know the first thing about Dean. I mean, the jocks didn't like him and that was good enough for me, but there was definitely something more to him. He was hiding something, and I was going to find out what it was.   
He acted so cold and looked so unapproachable. I was intrigued, hooked on the thought of hearing him talk about his life in that voice of his.   
He'd built up walls around himself and I was determined to break them down.

~~~


	3. Surprise Appearance

Roman's P.O.V  
~~~

Although I had acted mad towards Seth for speaking to Dean, inwardly I was pleased. I knew I wouldn't have had the courage to approach him myself and so having him sit with us at lunch was pretty uplifting.   
I found myself looking forward to the times I saw Dean. He never said much when I did see him, but being around him had a generally positive effect on me. And the feeling seemed mutual.

It had been a little over two weeks since Seth approached Dean in the lunch hall and I was sitting in my biology class. My eyes bored into the back of the empty seat in front of me. Where was he? It wasn't uncommon for him to show up a period or two late but it was last lesson. 

The teacher began speaking and I became aggravated that he dared to begin without Dean. I quickly realised, of course, how pathetic my anger was and tried to concentrate on the lesson. A painstakingly long hour later and the bell shrieked. 

I made my way out of the school and saw Seth standing in front of the building with two steaming plastic cups. I quirked an eyebrow, grinning widely.  
He looked at the floor awkwardly as I paced towards him.  
"We had a trip to the University with the Mathletes, so I picked us up some drinks on the way back." He shrugged.

"Thanks," I carefully peeled one of the drinks from his grasp, "I won't beat you up for using the term 'Mathletes', but only because you got me coffee." Glancing sideways, I caught Seth's huffy smirk. 

"Was Dean in school today?" Seth caught me off guard with his question.   
"No, he wasn't actually. Why'd you ask?" I tried to look casual but overthought and probably ended up looking awkward and suspicious.

"On the way back here, I thought I saw him hanging around the park. I couldn't tell if it was him or not but I guess it could've been if he wasn't here." Seth spoke, pausing momentarily to sip at his still steaming drink. I nodded.

We stood in silence for a moment before I motioned for us to make our way home. Seth half-ran to keep up with my long strides. I slowed down and fell into pace with him.

"I'm sure Dean is fine, by the way." The younger boy spoke from beside me. I let out a forced laugh and cocked my head to the side.

"What makes you think I'm worrying about him?" My question made Seth laugh as he stared straight ahead.

"Nothin', just reassuring you that he'll be fine. Wherever he is." He finished with a short nod and tossed his empty cup into a passing bin. I made a noise somewhere between an acknowledgement and a growl. Seth laughed and shoved me with his shoulder.

~~

My eyes stung with tiredness as I sat in the canteen. I sat sideways on the seat and leaned my back against the wall. Seth was perky as usual and sat with a half-empty bottle of water in his hand.  
"No sign of Dean?" Seth asked with hopeful yet non-expectant eyes. I shook my head. 

I pulled my phone from my back pocket to check the time. We had ten minutes left of break, then it was English Language, where I'd spend the hour glancing at Dean's empty chair and wondering where the hell he was. 

"Oh, shit." Seth spoke under his breath. Without looking up, I replied,  
"What?"  
When he didn't answer, I glanced up and followed Seth's gaze to the door. 

Dean strode in wearing his usual attire. He was at the other side of the room but I could already tell something was up. He grew closer and I gritted my teeth as I assessed his appearance.

Both eyes sat above dark semi-circles, most likely from sleepless nights, although one was significantly worse than the other. The skin surrounding his left eye was a deep shade of purple and obviously swollen. His actual eye was bloodshot and barely open.

Exposed skin around his neck and shoulders, above his dirty grey tank top, was painted with yellow and brown bruises harsh against his pale complexion. He seemed to limp on his left leg, but attempted to play it off as he walked over to the hot drinks machine. 

Dozens of heads turned to watch him as he waited patiently for his beverage. They snickered and laughed among themselves. I felt my face grow hot with anger as I watched them mock Dean. I could see Seth's head turn to look at me but I remained focused on the man at the drinks machine.

He reached for his coffee, his knuckles peppered red with broken skin and small cuts. The cup was lifted lightly from the holder. He then strolled out of the hall as if nothing had happened, leaving Seth and I in silent shock.

"Should we... Go after him?" Seth forced his eyes away from the closed door to look across at me. I shrugged my shoulders and closed my mouth which I hadn't realised was open.

"He can't go to next period like that. He'll get suspended for 'physical violence' or some shit." I grumbled before getting to my feet. Seth grasped at my shirt before I had a chance to walk away.

"I'd go with you, but I've got a physics final next period, I can't miss it." His eyes were apologetic through his glasses. I smiled and nodded,  
"It's fine, maybe it's better if I go alone anyway." 

I jogged through the crowded room and pushed through the double doors. It didn't take long to spot Dean in the empty yard. He spotted me approaching and watched me with cautious eyes.

"Hey." Was all I could muster when I reached him. He tipped his head back and tried to smirk.

"Hey." He raised his drink to his lips and took a long drink. I watched him, studying his injuries once more. I took a deep breath and widened my stance. I knew better than to ask him who or what had given him such a beating. But who knows, maybe it was a case of, 'If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy.'

"Listen, you can't go to your next lesson looking like..." My eyes dropped to his chest and back as Dean raised an eyebrow at me. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip. "You'll only get suspended and then they'll be on your ass for the rest of the year."

He considered my advice.  
"Guess I better go then." He sighed loudly and sized up the metal fence which surrounded the school. "Fuck knows where I'm going though."

I folded my arms and looked at the floor then back up at the bruised boy.  
"You can come to mine. My house is empty. You can get cleaned up there if you'd like." I tried not to sound suggestive but I wasn't sure if I'd succeeded. 

I chanced a look at Dean, who just frowned and nodded his head.  
"Sounds good. Is your friend coming?" He half-smiled. I chuckled but shook my head. "Alright then, let's go." 

He stalked over to the metal gate and skilfully lifted himself on top. His eyebrows were knitted together in pain as he glanced over the other side. I quickly pulled myself up and jumped over. Warily, I lifted my arm to help Dean down.  
His expression softened and he grasped my forearm before stepping down beside me. 

"Lead the way to yours, then... Roman, right?" He ran his thumb over a small cut on his lip. I nodded and grinned before motioning down the street.  
"This way."

~~~


	4. Why So Serious?

Roman's P.O.V  
~~~

I pushed open the door to my house and took a step in, soon followed by Dean. He stood awkwardly beside me as I hung up my bag next to several jackets and coats.

"You can sit in there if you'd like." I pointed over my shoulder to the living room. Dean raised his eyebrows and turned on his heels. He winced and stumbled on his leg on the way to the room.

I made a pit-stop at the kitchen and grabbed us a can of Strongbow each before joining him on the couch.   
"Thanks." Dean mumbled, allowing me to drop the cold drink into his hand. 

On closer inspection, I noted that his knuckles were a deep red and remnants of blood were splattered on the ends of his fingers. He must have noticed me staring and strategically moved his hands to rest behind on the other side of his legs.  
I sighed lightly. Dean cracked open his can and sank back into the material sofa. I forced myself to break the awkward silence.

"So, did you move here or have you always lived in Toronto?" I was content with how my voice didn't waver under the pressure to speak confidentially. Dean's lips curled sideways at my half-assed attempt to start a conversation.

"Moved here about a month ago. I grew up in Ohio but I've been pretty much everywhere since." He took me by surprise by sharing more information than I asked for. "What about you and Seth? You two grow up here?" 

I smiled warmly at the comfort of a light-hearted conversation and took a long drink before replying.  
"I'm from Florida, my parents moved up here when I was about five. Seth moved from Iowa when we were both about ten."   
Dean nodded and licked his lips, smirking.

"Weird that none of us were originally from here, yet somehow we all managed to meet, right?" He thought aloud. I contemplated his words and chuckled in agreement.  
After sensing that our conversation was coming to an end, I reached for the remote and switched on the T.V.

The realisation that Seth was the last one to watch something at my house hit me too late, and some lame documentary about an old physicist resumed playing.   
"For fucks sake, Seth." I grumbled under my breath, jabbing at the remote. Dean bubbled with laughter catching me by surprise. I laughed with him, eventually switching the programme off.

I flicked through the channels, relying on Dean to speak up if he spotted anything he wanted to watch. Dean's head jolted to the T.V when a deep, familiar voice spoke.   
Christian Bale and Heath Ledger stared each other down in 'The Dark Knight', as Dean watched intently. I smiled inwardly thinking, he was just the kind of person to be a fan of Batman.

Dean didn't speak for a good twenty minutes as he watched the film and when he did, it was only to ask where he could put his empty can. I took it from him and placed in the bin in the kitchen with mine. When I returned, it was clear that Dean was struggling to stay awake. 

I didn't say anything. If he did fall asleep I'd leave him to it, I thought. His head seemed loose on his shoulders as it fell forwards, only for the movement to wake him up again. He repeated this for five or ten minutes until his eyes were closed and his head was resting on the cushion behind.

I turned the volume down on the television as The Dark Knight continued playing. It took Dean being asleep for me to realise just how beaten down he looked.

The dark circles under his left eye merged into the black and purple bruises which ran under his eyebrow. His scruffy beard covered the lower half of his face and his top lip, which bared several small, red cuts. 

Dean's chest rose and fell silently as he slept. I debated taking off his jacket, thinking that it couldn't be comfortable to lie in. The boy looked heavy, and his unconsciousness would no doubt add to the weight, but two years of working out had it's benefits.

I pulled him forward to rest against my shoulder as I used my spare hand to slip the leather coat from around him. He softly fell back into the couch undisturbed. Smirking triumphantly, I placed the jacket on the coffee table in front of us.

I shifted my gaze back to Dean when my eyes caught on something. My mouth turned dry as I leaned forwards.   
Small, dark track marks ran up Dean's forearms. 

Fuck. I cursed in my head. I suspected alcohol, cigarettes, maybe even weed, but heroine? My mind raced and I started to feel sick. I looked back at Dean. He seemed so peaceful to be going through such a rough time. Perhaps he got caught up with some drug lord who gave him a beating for not keeping up with payments or something?

My fingers wound their way across to the delicate skin on his forearms. I traced the pinprick red circles with my fingertips, beyond angry that they dared to exist on the arms of someone I cared for. My breath shook with anger or fear or both.

Suddenly, Dean's arm was yanked away from my touch. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked up at Dean. His eyes were wild.  
"What the fuck are you doing?" His voice was cold and unforgiving.

I couldn't form words, I just stared at him with my mouth open, watching him grow in anger.   
His head darted about until his eyes settled on his jacket. He jumped to his feet and threw his bare arms into his leather coat. 

"Dean, I swear I didn't-" I didn't know where I was going with my words but I didn't get a chance to finish anyway, as Dean stormed out of the room. I followed him to the front door, expecting him to have disappeared already. 

He stood with his forearm against the wall and his head resting on his arm, heaving. I was afraid not that he'd beat me up, but that I wouldn't have the guts to hit him back.  
The two of us were silent. The only sound was our heavy breathing. I found myself staring at my hands, waiting for Dean to throw a punch at me or to walk out the front door. 

Instead, Dean fell to his knees. I hadn't prepared for it, so all I could do was watch him in confusion. But when a muffled sob sounded from the heap before me, instinct took over and I dropped to my knees beside him.   
His hands grasped helplessly at my shirt as he hung his head low. 

When he lifted his head, I felt a sharp pain in my chest at the sight. His eyes were wet with tears which already poured down his cheeks. He gritted his teeth as his body shook with the sobs which escaped his lips.

"Fuck. Fuck, I'm sorry." I managed to decipher from Dean's broken voice, "I was clean for so fucking long I swear." I pulled him closer to me and held him tighter.  
"You don't have to apologise, Dean." I forced myself not to break down at the sight of such a wreck of a boy.

"I need help. Fuck knows, I'm probably past the point of help." Dean breathed in sharply through his nose and pushed himself back to lean against the wall. He wiped his eyes but tensed as his hands ran over bruised areas.

"Nobody is past the point of help. I'm going to help you. But you gotta help yourself first." Words poured from my mouth before I'd even considered them but they sounded about right.   
Dean looked at me with somewhat confused eyes.

"You... wanna help me?" How unfamiliar someone caring for him seemed to Dean made my chest ache. I smiled warmly and stood up, offering him a hand.

"Yep. It's gonna be hard," My eyes fell to the now hidden marks on his arms, "But you can do it. Now let's go finish Batman."

~~~


	5. Ice-Cream Parlours and Arcades

Roman's P.O.V 

~~~

A week or so after Dean's breakdown at my house, he already seemed to be improving. His injuries, which still remained unexplained, were beginning to heal and he was really starting to open up to Seth and I.

Of course he never spoke about his private life but at least he actually spoke to us now. Seth would rush into conversations with Dean and I'd be afraid it would scare him away or discourage him from hanging around us, but he surprised me by sharing Seth's enthusiasm even if he was speaking about some lame, nerdy project Seth was working on.

I prayed that Dean was off the drugs. There was no way of checking, as he wore long sleeves every single day and after the last time I removed his jacket without permission, I'd learnt my lesson of keeping to myself.   
Seth didn't know. I didn't know how he'd handle it so I thought it best not to tell him. If worst came to worst, he could be trusted with keeping a secret but there was no need for him to know.

Plus, Dean deserved to know that he could rely on me. I'd promised to help him recover from the addiction and I was going to stand by that promise. And if he wanted to open up to me about whatever or whoever gave him those injuries, I'd be here for him.

~~

"You guys wanna hang out later, or something?" Dean spoke across the table with his chin resting on his closed fist. Seth looked up from his book and smiled widely.

"Yeah! Hey, there's this new diner at the shopping centre which sells giant milkshakes and ice-creams!" Seth babbled without pausing for breath, "And the arcade is right opposite, we could go there aswell!"   
I rubbed my forehead and sighed, waiting for Seth to stop talking. When I looked up Dean was suppressing a laugh.

"Oh, Seth." I sighed. Seth turned to face me, looking confused.

"Milkshakes and arcade games? I was thinking more along the lines of alcohol and Die Hard but hey, I'm in." Dean stuck out his bottom jaw and laughed across to a still enthusiastic Seth.

Seth bounced in his seat before standing up.   
"Awesome! I'll meet you guys at the shopping centre at five." He chimed before striding away to his next lesson.

"He is an actual five-year-old." I blurted out once Seth was out of earshot. Dean chuckled and leaned forwards slightly,  
"Nah, it's cute. I wish I was still like that." He half-smiled.

I huffed and smirked back.  
"How're you holding up?"

He seemed taken aback by the question but frowned and nodded.  
"I'm... I'm doing good, thanks."

"Yeah? I see your black eye is almost gone." My eyes scanned his for some answer as to what happened but he avoided my gaze and looked at his hands.

Dean half-smiled and ran his fingertips over the faded bruising.  
"Almost."  
I waited to see if he'd elaborate but he remained silent.

"I could meet you at your house later today before we go to that fucking arcade or whatever. Your house is on the way there from mine, right?" 

Dean looked up in thought before nodding quickly and raising his eyebrows.  
"Yeah, if you want. Kings Avenue, last house on the left near the convenience store. What, about quarter to five?" He checked.

I hummed in assurance.   
The bell shrieked into the dinner hall and everyone slowly got to their feet. I leaned over to Dean to speak above the dull roar of the moving crowd.  
"I'll see you at quarter to five."

~~

The streets were practically empty as I strolled towards Dean's. All of the houses were decent sized and looked relatively new, likely an extension on the estate built here last summer, I thought. 

I reached the end of the street and crossed onto the left side as Dean had instructed. Hesitating slightly, I creeped up to the front door and pressed a button which I could only hope was a doorbell.  
The house remained silent and still and I assumed the bell didn't work. I raised my hand to knock on the door but I stopped when I heard voices from inside.

The voices were loud but incomprehensible. I strained to understand but could only make out cussing and swearing. I suddenly felt very unwelcome and uncomfortable.  
I took a step back just as the door swung open and an unfamiliar man stumbled out. 

He didn't even register my presence as he spun around and spat and shouted back into the house.  
"You motherfucker, you've fucked up for the last time you son of a bitch!" The aged man snarled at the empty doorway before Dean filled the space. "I don't know how many times I've told your bitch of a mother we should've kicked you out years ago, but 'noo, he's just misunderstood, he deserves another chance', well this time you've had it!"

Dean launched himself from the front step and tackled the man to the cracked, concrete pavement. I stood watching in shock.  
"Don't you fucking dare talk about her like that!" Dean growled between breaths as he threw punches at the heap beneath him.

It didn't last long, before the older and seemingly stronger man flipped him over, Dean's head cracking against the pavement. I cringed and took a step towards the two.  
Dean fought back at every punch and kick aimed at him, screaming profanities and cusses at the heaving man. 

Blood splattered the floor and covered Dean's previously-healing face. I stepped forwards again and easily picked Dean up from the ground, standing in front of him and glaring across at the other man.

"Who's this?" The man breathed heavily and rolled up his torn sleeves, "Another one of your junkie-boyfriends? Get the fuck outta here, both of you."

The door slammed shut behind him and I immediately turned to Dean who was leaning against an unstable looking garden wall.  
I used my sleeve to carefully wipe some of the blood from his neck and face. He winced but let me do it.  
"Who the fuck..." I trailed off, expecting him to finish.

He licked away some blood from his bottom lip and stared at the floor.  
"The piece of fucking shit who married my mom." He spat. I breathed out through my nose and tried to look into his eyes but he wouldn't look up from the ground.

"Your step-dad?" I raised an eyebrow. Dean's head shot up and he scowled.  
"He is not my dad." His head fell back down onto the palms of his hands as he took a step forward.  
"Fuck I gotta find a place to stay." He mumbled, spitting out more blood.

"Don't worry about that, you can stay at mine for as long as you need. Did... Did he do that to you last time?" I said, referring to his injuries the other week. Dean spun around. He slowly nodded his head as if ashamed. I put an arm on his shoulder and pulled him closer to me.

I couldn't form any words but began walking down the street with Dean beside me. He didn't lift his head from the floor for a good five minutes before he spoke.  
"Thank you, Roman... For helping me out an' stuff. An' for letting me crash at yours for a while... An' for wiping blood off my face." His apology made my heart wrench but I laughed.

"You don't need to thank me for that. Maybe for wiping blood off your face though, I liked this shirt." I raised my arm to reveal a now red-stained sleeve. Dean chuckled.

"Seriously though, you and Seth have been so kind to me. Everyone else just sees me as a lost cause I guess." He breathed slowly and shoved his hands into his pockets. 

"You're not a lost cause. And me n' Seth are happy to help." I leaned to the side and knocked his shoulder gently. He huffed and returned the gesture. "Now do you want a 'giant milkshake' or an 'ice-cream'?" I mimicked Seth's enthusiasm to the amusement of Dean.

"I might just have both. Now let's go meet up with that adorable son of a bitch."

~~~


	6. Cute Names For Smoothies

Roman's P.O.V

~~~

Dean and I tried our best to clean up his injuries on our way to meeting Seth at the shopping centre. I managed to clear all of the dried blood from his face and neck, but harsh bruises were already threatening to blemish his rough skin.   
"Seth is probably going to think we were fighting." Dean ran his fingers lightly over a patch of broken skin on his cheekbone whilst motioning towards the blood stain on my sleeve. I laughed incredulously at the thought.

"I'm tempted to try and convince him of that." I smiled, earning a huff of amusement from Dean.   
We pushed through the doors of the mall and made our way to the diner Seth had spoke of. He was positioned at a modern-looking, square table when we entered, and he peered at us questioningly over the rim of his glasses before breaking into a goofy smile and waving.

Dean let out a small laugh and murmured something which resembled 'what a nerd' as we strolled over. I settled on one of the red leather stools and smiled across at Seth who had one hand wrapped firmly around a tall red glass.  
"How you doing, bud?" 

Seth shoved a book into his bag, looking back at me eagerly.  
"I'm great thanks!" His eyes flickered between us both before settling on Dean, his smile wavering. 

Dean cleared his throat and signalled a waitress over. Seth looked at me with his eyebrows knitted together, but I shook my head shortly, warning him not to ask. A short waitress with soft features and acid-green hair walked briskly to the table, pulling out a worn out looking notebook.  
Dean looked her up and down, leaning back in his seat slightly.

"Would you like to order something, sir?" The girl looked at him briefly, before focusing on the pen in her hand. Dean grinned at her obvious discomfort and pulled a menu up in front of himself.  
"I sure would, could I get a..." His jaw clenched suddenly and he glared menacingly over the top of the menu at Seth, "Berry Sweet Fruit Crush." 

I bit my bottom lip to stifle a laugh and watched Dean as his eyes bore into Seth who shrugged his shoulders and smiled back.   
"I'll have the same, please." I grinned at the girl before she walked swiftly back to the counter.

Dean took a deep breath and folded his arms,  
"I can't believe I just had to say that out loud." He snatched the menu back up and looked at it closely before looking back up at Seth and I, "Girl Scout Cookies and Cream Shake? Where the fuck did you bring us, Seth?" Dean turned on his seat to look around at the practically empty diner.

I rubbed a hand over my chin and laughed silently, watching Dean grow madder and madder.  
"W-What's wrong with here?" Seth asked innocently. Dean glared at him and I intervened.

"I think Dean's just a little embarrassed that he had to say 'Berry Sweet Fruit Crush' to the pretty, little waitress over there." I grinned at Seth who started laughing childishly. Dean folded his arms.  
"I wasn't embarrassed in front of her." Dean mumbled, looking at me briefly and then looking away. I tilted my head in confusion but shook it off.

The waitress appeared again with the two drinks, placing them in front of us and walking away, looking flustered. Dean chugged the drink back in one, slamming the glass back down with such force, I was generally surprised it didn't break.   
"Can we go now?" He glanced at us both.

I raised an eyebrow and knocked back my drink, throwing a couple of notes beside the empty glasses and getting to my feet. Seth smiled as he got to his feet, and we all made our way out. 

"Thank you!" Seth shouted over at the girl as we approached the door. Dean sighed loudly and shoved Seth out of the diner, suppressing a grin. 

"Where are we headin'?" I smiled at the two boys, letting the door fall shut behind me.   
Before anyone could reply, a group of five or so men approached, talking loudly amongst themselves. One of them walked in front by one pace and pointed out Dean.

"Hey, Ambrose. You got my money today?" The man's demeanour suggested that he was demanding, rather than asking. He wore an oversized jacket and a plain shirt, and stood with his arms folded, staring down Dean who looked briskly over his shoulder at Seth and I.

"Uh, no. Not today. Tomorrow, yeah?" Dean mirrored his stance and eyed him sternly. The group of men mumbled between themselves before the frontman spoke up.  
"Listen, kid, you bought from me three days ago. You bought a lot, I get it, it's a lot of money but if you don't keep up on payments then..." He raised an eyebrow, not feeling the need to finish his statement. 

"I get it. But I can't talk right now," Dean glanced at me sideways and then back at the group, "I'll have it all by tomorrow." 

Dean stalked away, leaving the Seth and I to follow quickly behind him. The group of men dispersed, walking in the other direction.  
I tried to think of excuses for what that confrontation could have been about, but it was obvious. I caught up with Dean and walked beside him.  
He looked at me and breathed deeply.

"It's not what it looks like." He sighed, "I'm only distributing. I'm not using." 

I tilted my head slightly,  
"What do you mean?"   
He looked me up and down and then glanced away,

"I mean, I buy from that guy, and I sell to other people. Not 'I buy from that guy and shoot it all up my arm'." Dean scowled slightly, seeming somewhat offended by my silent accusation.

"Dude, I didn't ask. It's fine." I looked at the floor. Seth glanced between us, beyond confused. I left him to it and looked at my watch, "I should be getting back now anyways. You still want to stay at mine?" 

Dean smiled softly and nodded slowly.  
"If you don't mind." 

I turned to Seth,  
"And I suppose you can come over, if you must." I teased and grinned. Seth smiled and stepped towards us, falling into pace as we walked towards the exit.

~~~


	7. Moving In

Roman's P.O.V

~~~

We managed to reach my house without further tensions or confrontations and Seth, Dean and I were now slouched over the sofas in my front room. I'd thrown the T.V remote between the two boys expecting one of them to switch it on, but neither had and so we sat in silence for a good few minutes.

I glanced over at a duffel bag in the corner. It's contents were currently everything Dean had to his name. I pitied him until I thought about his situation at home, and how much better off he was here with me. Dean followed my gaze and smiled sadly.

"Is it definitely okay with your parents if I crash on your couch for a while?" He tilted his head slightly and stared at me intently.

"They're outta town for like another two weeks. And you can sleep in the spare room, not on the couch." I half-smiled. Dean exhaled sharply through his nose and looked down, grinning,

"Thanks, man." 

Seth's phone buzzed and he picked it up from his lap, his eyes scanning the screen. He glanced across at us before speaking.  
"I gotta run up home, my mum's cousins just flew in from Canada," he sighed softly before getting to his feet, "And apparently that means I have to be there."

I grinned at the unfamiliarity of Seth's sarcastic attitude.  
"That's cool, see you tomorrow then, probably." 

Seth smiled back at me and walked over to the doorway.  
"See ya, Seth." Dean called over his shoulder, before relaxing back into the sofa slightly. Seth smiled widely and ruffled the blonde's hair, much to his dismay. Dean swatted at his hand and glared at him, only to break out into a grin when Seth left the room.

The front door could be heard opening and closing and Dean and I sat in a slightly uncomfortable silence. I jumped when Dean rose to his feet suddenly.  
"Where did you, uh, say that spare bedroom was?" He motioned over his shoulder with his thumb, "I'll take my bag up if that's okay." 

I nodded and wetted my lips with my tongue,  
"Yeah, of course. It's the second door on the left at the top of the stairs. The bathroom is opposite your room if you want a shower or anything."

Dean pursed his lips before smiling down at me,  
"Thank you, Roman."   
He swiped at the handle of his duffel bag on the way out of the room, throwing it over his shoulder and climbing the stairs two at a time. I watched him leave and let my head fall back onto the couch cushions.

A thought that I'd pushed to the back of my mind crept forwards. The scene at the shopping centre seemed more significant than Dean was letting on. He claimed that he was, what, just selling the drugs? His reputation for lying didn't make his claim convincing.

I sighed and got to my feet. I could hear Dean crossing the landing to the bathroom and closing the door as I climbed the stairs. The water was started running as I entered my bedroom.   
A low humming sounded from the bathroom and I identified it as Dean's voice, laughing lightly as I collapsed back onto my bed. 

My phone buzzed and lit up with Seth's name.

Is Dean okay? He's got another black eye, right? -Seth

He's fine I think. He didn't tell me what happened -Roman

I didn't like not telling Seth the truth, but at least I wasn't lying to him. Technically, Dean didn't tell me what happened. I just happened to see it.

Ah, good. I think the milkshake cheered him up :) -Seth

I laughed aloud and placed my phone on my bedside table. That boy is too cute for his own good. 

My bedroom door swung open and I jumped into a sitting position. Dean strode in with a towel hanging low around his waist and his wet curls cradling his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. He seemed just as surprised to see me as I was to see him and froze, staring at me with a confused expression.

He awkwardly covered his flat, chiselled stomach with his large hand and cleared his throat.  
"Shit, this, uh... This is your room." He stated the obvious and I let out a choked laugh. Dean grinned at the floor.   
The towel collected droplets of water which ran down his impressive upper half and over his deep v-lines which disappeared behind the light material. The loose towel threatened to fall, sliding slowly down past his protruding hipbones-

"Yeah, your room is the next one." I dragged my eyes up to his face and found him slightly red and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. I forced a smile to which he returned. He spun on his heels and swiftly exited the room. 

I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding and lay back down on the bed. The closing of a door notified me that Dean managed to find his room as I pulled my hair back into tight bun. I mentally cursed myself.  
Nice way to make him feel welcome, Roman. Stare at him whilst he's half naked. 

Sighing, I changed my jeans for some tracksuit bottoms and crawled under the covers.  
At least I wasn't jacking off or something.  
I widened my eyes at the thought and banished it from my mind. Dean had better get used to walking into his room quickly or I'd have buy locks. 

There was a soft knock on my door before it was pushed open again. The empty doorway was quickly filled by Dean's large, and now clothed, build.  
He looked apologetic but still wore his signature smirk.  
"Sorry about that." His rough voice spoke into my room. I leaned against the headboard and chuckled.

"It's all good. I mean, at least you were wearing the towel." I mentally cursed myself for the second time, and watched Dean for his response.

He laughed and bit his tongue, resting on the door frame.   
"That would have been significantly worse." His grin faded to a warm smile as he started to back away, "G'night."

I nodded and smiled back,  
"Night, Dean."

~~~


	8. No Supervision Required

Roman's P.O.V  
~~~

The clock read 12:20pm. I groaned and sat up, pushing myself groggily out of bed. At least it was Saturday.  
The scent of something burning hurried me down the stairs to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. Dean stood at the cooker.

He jumped slightly when he saw me and glanced down at the pan, smiling sheepishly.  
"I made us breakfast."

I smiled warmly and raised an eyebrow at the pan which contained some charred looking pieces of meat. Dean grinned proudly and pushed them onto two plates. He placed them on the table.

"You shouldn't have, Dean." I sat down, thinking about how literally I meant that he shouldn't have. I crunched on the food noisily, trying to work out what it was before being burnt to hell by Dean.

He winked and sat down opposite me.  
"My pleasure." He demolished the breakfast in mere seconds, leaving me in silence and the plate empty. The plate was placed swiftly in the sink and he disappeared upstairs.

I laughed to myself and scraped the remains into the bin.   
It was nice to have somebody else around the house, I thought to myself. Seth came over pretty often, but I'd spent the majority of my time alone for the last two weeks, with my parents abroad on some month-long cruise in Europe. 

I loaded the dishwasher and set it off before jogging up the stairs. Music played softly from the spare bedroom at the end of the corridor. I approached slowly and smiled, tapping audibly on the door.  
"Yeah?" Dean's scratchy voice called out over the music. I pushed open the door and stood looking in at the blonde who was sprawled out on his bed with a laptop resting on his chest.

"Bon Jovi, huh?" I grinned and nodded my head towards the source of the music. Dean smirked,  
"Who else?" 

I chuckled in agreement and rested my forearm against the doorframe.  
"Anyway, I'm not going to be in from 2 till around 9 tonight. I've gotta drive across town to help my cousins move some furniture to their new place." Dean looked up from the screen and nodded as I spoke, "And I trust you not to trash my house or host some giant ass party whilst I'm gone."

Dean rolled his eyes with a smile,  
"Yeah, I'll host a party and invite my many, many friends. Yeah, me and Seth are gonna go fucking wild and watch some science documentary on your TV. Hey, maybe we'll even crack open a few juice boxes, you know how wild Seth can be." 

I laughed loudly and Dean soon joined.   
"Alright, alright. Just be good whilst I'm gone." I shook my head and grinned, turning around.

"Yes, Daddy." A fake, high pitched voice sounded from behind my back. I froze and turned around to see Dean stifling a laugh and staring down at the laptop. He rose his head to look at me and raised an eyebrow, smiling.

"Don't sass me in my own house!" I played along whilst trying not to laugh. Dean chuckled with his tongue between his teeth.   
I shook my head and smiled,  
"See you at around nine." 

Dean nodded and looked up briefly before returning to whatever he was doing.

After showering and pulling on some clean clothes, I grabbed my keys and made my way to the car. An ACDC song picked up from where it last left off. I tapped the wheel in time and pulled out onto the street, driving off.

Should I have left Dean alone? Maybe I should send Seth over to check on him later. Am I treating him like a little kid?  
Overthinking had become quite the talent of mine since I met Dean. He had some kind of effect on me. 

I braked hard at a traffic light and received some harsh words and horns from car drivers behind me. I shook it off and continued driving. 

Dean is going to be fine. He's a grown man, he can handle a couple of hours by himself. Jesus Christ, you're not his dad.  
My train of thought ran back to Dean mockingly calling me 'Daddy' and I blushed again. That boy had some fucked up sense of humour. 

~~

After a day of carrying heavy boxes and driving back and forth across some busy city, the drive back home was near impossible. My eyes threatened to shut and more than once I had to physically slap myself in the face to stop from veering into the wrong lane on the carriageway.

Miraculously, I made it home without collision. The car pulled up to the drive, which to my delight and relief, was still intact. The house looked pretty normal but it was dark and I was tired, I'd have to give it closer inspection in the morning.  
I jabbed the key several times around the lock before managing to get it in and I pushed open the door. The lights were out and it was quiet.

Must've gone to bed early. That doesn't sound like a bad idea.   
I stretched and yawned, climbing the stairs whilst gripping tightly onto the bannister.

The house was unsettling quiet as I approached Dean's room. The door creaked open when I pushed it gently. I peered into the darkness, but was met with empty sheets. I huffed,  
Fucker probably got mixed up again and walked into my room instead.

I grinned and walked into my room, scanning my bed. Empty. Did he go out? It's pretty late for him to be wandering around. I'm acting like his parent again, it's completely fine for Dean to be out after nine.   
I rubbed my head and made my way to the bathroom to go to the toilet before I crashed for the night. 

As the door opened, I flicked on the light-switch. The blood drained from my face. 

"Oh, fuck." I felt myself wretch and fall to my knees, grasping onto the doorframe weakly. 

Dean was slumped against the bathtub, the needle still sticking out from his forearm. A thick trail of dried blood ran from his nose and down his chin, soaking in his grey vest-top. His eyes were shut and his head lay at an awkward angle against his shoulder. 

Vomit trailed down the side of his face and pooled near his arm. His skin was an unnatural colour, almost blue. 

I forced myself to crawl forward and my fingers grasped tightly at the material of his jeans.  
"F-Fuck, Dean." My voice cracked as I pushed his head back. His mouth opened as he lay unconscious. I pulled the needle out from his arm and threw it behind me, before forcefully slapping Dean across the face.

"Wake up! Fuck, wake up, Dean!" I snarled and hit him again before collapsing forward onto him and letting out a sob. "You're not dying on me, you fucking asshole." I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called for an ambulance.

Pushing Dean onto his back, I pressed hard at his chest repeatedly and blew into his mouth, gagging at the taste of vomit. Wake the fuck up. I pressed my mouth against his again and blew hard. Fuck, Dean. Wake up.

~~~


	9. Narcotics

Roman's P.O.V  
~~~

I'd always hated hospitals. The walls were too bright. It smelled too strongly of bleach. The waiting rooms were full of exhausted or injured people. The last time I'd been here, I'd practically carried Seth in after he broke his ankle and that was almost seven years ago. 

The constant background noise of mechanical beeping and medical terms merged together. The clock on the wall in front of me read 1:00am but I had no idea what time we arrived. The only thing I could remember was the image of Dean in the bathroom with his eyes shut and the needle still sticking out-

"Sir? Hello?" 

My head snapped up and I focused my heavy eyes on a woman who looked down at me over a pair of glasses. She looked around fifty and her expression was full of pity.

"You came here with Dean, right?" She forced a smile.

I tried to reply but I didn't trust myself to speak without my voice breaking. I nodded slowly.

"If you could come with me, sir." She turned and started walking away slowly. I watched her for a moment before pushing myself to my feet and following, stumbling slightly. Several doctors and nurses shot me apologetic glances. I must look as worn out as I feel, I thought.

The nurse made a sharp left and held the door open to a small room with two sofas and short coffee table. My legs carried me almost unwillingly to the first sofa. The door clicked shut and the woman sat beside me, grabbing some papers and glancing down at them.

She smiled across at me briefly and cleared her throat.   
"You've been here for almost four hours, you must be pretty tired. Can I get you a coffee or something?" 

"No, thank you." My voice was scratchy and hoarse. She nodded quickly.

"We ran some tests on Dean when he first arrived. And he-" She took a deep breath and looked up at me. I fought back tears and kept looking down at my hands,  
"He had over three times the lethal amount of heroin in his veins. We've been cleaning his blood for hours, I've never seen anything like this in my thirty years working here. He's lucky to be alive." 

I let out a choked sob which shocked both the nurse and myself.  
"H-He's alive?" 

The nurse looked at me confusedly but nodded, rubbing my arm soothingly.  
"Honey, I was under the impression that somebody had told you this by now."  
I shook my head and wiped my eyes, crying shamelessly. She shuffled towards me on the chair and pulled my head onto her shoulder, putting an arm over my shoulder as if it came naturally with her job.

"Gosh, I'm sorry. We could've put you out of your misery an hour ago. I can take you to see him now if you'd like. The sedatives should be wearing off soon."  
I sniffed and let out a shaky breath, sitting back and nodding,  
"Please, yeah."

~~

The walk to the room Dean was resting in was seemingly endless. I kept my head down, trying to hide my swollen red eyes. Eventually, the nurse stopped outside a door with 'narcotics' written across in bold letters.  
"He's in here, on the left. Stay as long as you need, sweetie." She smiled up at me and headed off back down the corridor.

I stared through the glass and looked at several empty beds before pushing open the door and stepping inside. A scrawny male in a white trench-coat looked up from a desk at the other side of the room but soon returned to scribbling at a clipboard.   
I swallowed hard and turned left. 

His eyes were closed. His hair looked cleaner than it was when we left the house, and lay in curls on a pristine white pillow. A thick, red tube appeared from his forearm and led into a large machine which beeped periodically.   
I approached the bed slowly and pulled up a chair beside him. I rested my arms on the thin mattress and looked across at him.

His arm was still speckled with red, pin-prick marks. Why did he lie to me? I thought I was helping him. Turned out he just got better at hiding it.   
I shook the thoughts from my mind and sighed heavily, suddenly overwhelmed by my tiredness. I rested my head by Dean's side and closed my eyes.

~~

I hummed quietly in my sleep, relaxed at the feeling of fingers running through my hair. My eyebrows furrowed when an overwhelming scent of bleach filled my nostrils. I sat up and squinted at the bright lights, remembering where I was and evidentially, who must've been touching my hair.

His eyes were open now. They looked tired as hell, but the familiarity and reassurance of that shade of blue knocked the air out of my chest.   
His expression was unreadable, until I noticed his eyes were brimming with tears as he avoided my gaze.  
The corner of his lip curled down and he looked almost angry.

"Fuck, I can't do anything right." He leaned his head back on the pillow and looked straight up. I watched him sadly, unable to form a response. He let out a short, haunting laugh and shook his head. "I didn't even manage to kill myself." He made a gesture with his head to the hospital room.

"Dean."  
He turned his head to look at me slowly. He was crying now. I sighed audibly and looked into his eyes.  
"I care about you. A fucking lot, okay? And 'I can't do anything right' is a fucking lie, because you managed to scare the shit out of me." 

He continued to stare at me for several moments before licking his lips and looking down. A grin spread across his face, which he failed to hide.  
I started laughing and covered my face with my hands. Dean looked up and started chuckling quietly. 

"I'm serious, I haven't cried since Seth made me sit through that three-hour documentary on nuclear fusion." I grinned and pushed my hair back. Dean furrowed his eyebrows and his expression softened,  
"You cried for me?"

I felt my cheeks burn up and I looked away.  
"That's, uh, not what I meant, I-" I gritted my teeth and looked up at Dean who was smirking slightly, "Shut up, Ambrose."

~~~


	10. Rats In Cardboard Boxes

Roman's P.O.V

~~~

Dean and I talked for a short while longer, but I could tell he was exhausted so I told him to go back to sleep. He was reluctant but within five minutes he was out cold. I sat in the chair by his bed for what seemed like hours, listening to the periodic beeps of the machines he was hooked up to.

I was drifting off myself when the soft buzz of a vibrating phone dragged me back into the room. A dim, blue light was illuminating the inside of Dean's duffel bag. Curiously, I picked it up.

'Payment was expected two days ago, Ambrose. Be behind 5th street at 8 or I suggest you start packing.'

I read the message over a couple of times then glanced at Dean, passed out in the bed. If these were the guys that we'd ran into at the mall a couple of weeks ago, I was guessing that they didn't want to meet up for a polite conversation.   
I checked the clock. 7:05pm. I sighed and pushed my hair back. Guess that gives me 55 minutes to get there.

~~~

I unzipped my jacket as I approached the back of 5th street. Not to sound big-headed or anything, but I thought 'maybe if these see how jacked I am, they won't try and jump me'. Side-stepping a couple of garbage cans and various pieces of broken furniture, I assessed the area.

My first thoughts were, this place is a fucking shit hole. There was one exit; where I'd just walked in. The ground was rough and uneven, made of concrete which was barely visible underneath all of the cardboard and black rubbish bags. It was surrounded by tall, run-down houses and garages, which looked empty but were almost certainly bursting with drug addicts and sellers.   
The Feds would have a fucking field-day in this place, I thought to myself, mostly trying to distract myself from the impending sense of doom.

I kicked an empty box across the concrete, only to soon find out it wasn't, in fact, empty. A large rat made an unnaturally loud squeaking sound and scampered over my feet. I jumped back and shuddered.   
The growing sound of a crowd of voices attracted my attention. I watched a group of half-a-dozen men walk in through the alleyway I had, only minutes ago.

The man in front, who I recognised to be the one who had spoken to Dean in the mall, slowed slightly at the sight of me but kept approaching. The others soon caught on and stared at me.

"You're not Ambrose." The leader spat when he reached one or two feet before me. I eyed up the group in front of me and didn't take a step back. The guy staring me down stood at eye level and had a frankly pitiful tribal tattoo scrawled up his neck.

"No shit." My gaze didn't waver as I spoke confidently back. A couple of his followers shifted uncomfortably at the growing tension.   
The leader narrowed his eyes a little but laughed.   
"You might want to watch your tone, boy. Anyway, I don't give a fuck who you are, just hand over the money and hope you never run into me again." 

He elbowed the man to his right and the smaller guy stepped forwards with an arm outstretched.  
I stared down at his hand and huffed.  
"Look, I hate to break it to you junkie pricks, but the only thing I'm here to give you guys is some advice. Or maybe even some black eyes, if I think you really deserve it." 

The guy before me scowled a little and continued to stare at me.  
"Oh, really? And what advice would that be? Please, enlighten us."

I smirked a little, watching him get angrier and angrier as my amusement grew.  
"First of all, you're not getting any money. Not from me, not from Dean. Second of all, if you even happen to walk on the same side of town as Dean again, I'm gonna take this fist-" I moved my enclosed hand under the enraged man's chin, sparking a reaction from the crowd behind him.

"And I'm gonna shove it so far up your ass, that I can work your mouth like a fucking puppet and personally apologise to Dean, for thinking that your dumbass, pathetic selves are even worthy to be within a fifteen mile radius of him. Do you understand?"

I didn't break eye contact as I delivered my threat, mentally patting myself on the back for not stuttering once. I registered that the man's breathing had quickened in pace and I smirked in achievement. He quickly shoved my fist away.

"You think you can fucking talk to me like that? If your faggot boyfriend has problems with money, he comes and sees me himself, he doesn't send his son of a bitch, pussy-" I cut him off with a hand locked-tightly around his throat. Several men behind him jumped forwards but a quick glare sent them back.

I leaned close to his ear as his feet scrambled about beneath him, desperately trying to stay on the floor.  
"I strongly suggest you reconsider what you just fucking said to me. Look around. I don't know about you, but I haven't seen another living person for about a mile back. I'm guessing it would take about..." 

I pretended to think and looked up before locking eyes with him again. "Let's say, if you're lucky, two weeks, for the smell of seven rotting corpses to reach the nearest housing estate. And by then, all of the rats that live in this shit hole, will probably have gnawed your faces beyond recognition.   
So to sum up, if I fucking killed you all with my bare hands for threatening Dean like you just did, I'd probably never be caught! Care to reconsider those slurs you just used?'

The crowd had backed away several feet by now. The man in my grasp was staring at me with a horrified expression, pulling weakly at my arm. I released him and watched him fall to the floor before pushing himself back. A couple of hands pulled him to his feet.

"Fine. No repayments. But tell Ambrose we're never selling to him or any of his friends again. And you-" He swallowed hard and started walking backwards, "You stay the fuck away from me." 

I watched them swiftly leave and then looked around, shoving my hands into my pockets. That went well. I waited a minute or so then started making my way back to the hospital.

~~~


End file.
